This time, I decide
by daemok
Summary: They believed he was trapped forever, but time can be quite accommodating. Dark Harry; body change, name change. Slash (later)
1. an opening of sorts

_**'Harry Potter' Series is property of J.K. Rowling; This is just a fiction text that receives no payment or commendations.**_

* * *

_Pairings: Tom M. Riddle (Voldemort) & Harry J. Potter_

* * *

**This time, I decide.  
**

-an opening of sorts-

~{o}~

~{}~

o

It is I, who is surrounded by Power.

It is I, who is surrounded by Knowledge.

It is I, who is surrounded by Treasure.

Yet here, I am a prisoner.

Feared by the ones I loved, I shared their own suspicions upon my person; for which they turned against me in the end. When that _incident_ happened, their horror of me grew twice over and unable to destroy the monster I have become, my once cherished friends sought to use themselves as sacrifices to contain me instead.

And here I've remained.

Their sense of Justice was admirable and kept me content that what had been forced upon me was for the greater good. Yet, as time passed, the gnawing doubt ate away my resolve and I began to feel more and more betrayed.

A building restlessness had taken hold of me at some point. Acting on this newest instinct, I reached out to everything left at my disposal. I delved farther and deeper than I ever thought imaginable, flexing my core to such a point that time seemed utterly irrelevant. Only the events of the past ever stretched from those tarnished memories to stab me piteously. Like revolving circles, I wind around halls that twist and wind back on itself, until I cannot define whether I am walking through the material world or through my own waking mind.

In these vaults, vast and sealed tight I sit upon my thrown of madness... waiting.

Power; runs rampant through my veins.

Knowledge; lines the endless shelves of ancient writings.

Treasure; twinkles undisturbed in heaps and piles.

It is I, who am Harry James Potter.

o

~{}~

~{o}~

-an opening of sorts-

* * *

Dun... _Dun... **Dun!**_


	2. a glimpse of it

_**'Harry Potter' Series is property of J.K. Rowling; This is just a fiction text that receives no payment or commendations.**_

* * *

_Key: so you don't get confused later on.  
_

Regular text. "Regular speech." 'Regular thoughts.'

_Sentient text. _

**Its text. **

**"One's will speech."  
**

_**"Parseltongue."**_

* * *

**This time, I decide.**

-a glimpse of it-

~{o}~

~{}~

o

_The shade watches. _

_Through the darkness the shade's sight penetrates, roving over the spiked stalactites and stalagmites staggering the caves jagged lining. _

Droplets of condensation dribble from above, sprinkling the dark pool below and sending ripples out to all corners. The yawning entrance shimmers blood red, an omen of ill intent, as the sun dips down in the horizon.

_Here is where the shade's eyes hover back over. _

A figure approaches, small but determined. An aura of churning magick boils and oozes out from such a young individual.

_The shade knows. The shade watches._

The boy is humming a delightful tune, stepping solidly as he carries a bundle wrapped in rags in his arms.

_From a perch above, the shade waits._

"Freak!" A voice penetrates from the mouth of the cave. Another male stumbles into the abyss to blink blearily, searching for his rival until both eyes land onto the intended target.

"Hold on! Hold on!" Carries a third voice throughout the ominous cave which is echoing the last of the first child's tune. A girl arrives, hands and dress soiled with dirt.

"My name is not 'Freak'." Gray eyes pin the offending couple with a glower. "It's Tom."

The second male, Dennis, sneers back, "To the grown-ups maybe, but I even hear the old bint whispering about how freakish you are."

At the side, Amy shifts her wait from foot to foot. Her face scrunches into a frown as she shivers. The cave is massive and intimidating. She would rather be back in the park across from the Orphanage, or picking flowers that grew on the side of the dirt roads. It was too dark, too cold, and far too frightening.

_The shade shifts in the shadows. _

"Take that back!" Tom snarls, lips wreathing over gums to reveal startling red teeth gleaming from the fading sun, as if blood was smeared across them.

Dennis takes an involuntary step backwards, bumping into Amy who whimpers in response.

His face morphs into a satisfied grin and Tom releases a chuckle.

"You're not a freak... you're a _monster_!" Dennis howls defiantly, which only makes the other boy crow in delight.

"Better run along then Bishop, don't you know monsters like to eat children?"

"Shut up!" Amy finds her voice. Hands clutching Dennis tightly she frowns at the boy grinning wickedly at them. Heat rises to her face and she yells over Dennis' shoulder, "What are you doing down here? You shouldn't be here at all!"

"No," Tom corrects, face twisting quickly into a mocking smile. "You shouldn't be here. What happened? Finally found the courage to stalk me?"

"We were playing Detective!"

"That's right," Dennis tenses up and points at Tom, "And you're the bad guy."

The boy sends them a withering look before turning away. "Get lost."

More intent than before, the Bishop boy darts forward to grab at what Tom has in his arms.

Surprise turns instantly into rage and Tom reacts by hissing as he wretches himself free. The rags unravel and an object falls to the rocky ground with a limp 'thud'.

Amy lets out a scream.

_On the opposite end of the cave the shade shivers. Watching. Waiting._

"Is that," Dennis' face blanches, "Is that Billy's rabbit?!"

"Shut your trap!" Tom sweeps down and snatches the lifeless body by the hind legs.

Pale faced, Dennis waves his arms wildly, "It was you all along! I knew it! You killed Billy's rabbit and hung it up!" The boy tries to reach forward to yank it out of Tom's hands again, but misses. His frantic yelling rises, "We buried it just last week! Why do you have it?!"

"It's a gift!" Tom yells back, "To my friend for helping me!"

Dennis' nostrils flare. "You don't have any friends!"

A drop of water slips from its seat to plummet down into the cave. The sound of it colliding with the dark pool's surface echoes all around as those ripples reach the bank by the feet of the trio who shudder under a nameless presence.

_Attention set fully on the three children. The shade watches with a growing sense of wonder and hatred. The shade waits for It to arrive._

"He says I'm special." Tom's voice whispers. The smirk at the corner of his mouth extends into a full grin. He says it louder, "He says I'm _special._"

**There. In the shadows at the boy's feet, a black streak murkier than darkness grows into an undefined twisting image. It has arrived.**

_Across the water the shade's orbs widen in fervent excitement. The nemesis is making an appearance. Wishing to attack and sink in teeth, the shade coils ready. Patience, the shade must wait until the most opportune moment when It is more stable in this world..._

_Something twinges at the edge of the shade's sentient form. A tug, a pull from elsewhere demanding the shade's attention. Ignore the sensation, prepare to attack._

"I'm telling on you!" Amy wails, tears running down her cheeks. "I hate you! I hate you! I'm telling on you!"

"No you won't." A feverish red glints off Tom's eyes as he forces his will on the bewildered girl.

**It shudders at Tom's feet and lazily reaches around its charge to brush against the girl's shadow.**

A shriek escapes Amy's lips and she falls to her knees, hands gripping the sides of her head.

"Amy!" Dennis drops down beside her trying to figure out what happened. Confused and angry, he snaps his head back to Tom. "What did you do?! You did something!"

"Heh, my friend just said 'hello' is all." Lifting the rabbit by his side, Tom drops the prize.

Instead of hitting the ground, the rabbit disappears completely.

**The sound of grinding bones and squishing meat rises from the boy's shadow. **

A malevolent happiness dances in Tom's eyes as he looks down on the other two orphans.

_The shade inches closer, but the tug is stronger now. More insistent. Yet It is here! Right there!_

"What is it?! What is going on?!" A new found horror grips the boy as he grasps Amy.

Tom laughs at them. "You still don't get it do you?" He takes a step forward, "But that doesn't matter. My friend says I'm special. He shows me how to make people do what I want. He shows me how to make them _hurt_."

"Monster!" Amy cries. "Monster! Monster!"

"Yes I am." The feverish glint is back and more pronounced. "And you're not going to tell anybody."

"I'm going to tell everyone!" Dennis shouts, "You can't make me do anything!"

**It shudders at Tom's feet and pulses with a quick sickening beat.**

A malicious look clouds the boy's face. His eyes lock onto the hysterical girl, **"Shut up."**

Amy chokes in shock, but not a sound issues from her throat.

_Picking up speed, the shade slithers across the ceiling ignoring the summons from beyond urging the shade somewhere else. This was the shade's chance! Attack! Yet with every inch covered, the pulling sensation intensifies. The shade is so very close, but the feeling takes over sucking it through a tunnel and out of the world. With a snarl the shade peers down at the last of the scene below:_

Tom turns to Dennis who sputters in with a dawning terror. **"Drown her."**

"W-what?!" Came Dennis' harsh whisper. His muscles convulse, moving against his own violation.

Glittering eyes become hooded as those lips quirk into a playful grin. **"Just a little."**

_A blinding light explodes around the shade's vision. A link has been established somewhere commanding the shade completely. Howling with annoyance the shade whips around, turning over, and tumbles past shapes and colors speeding by. _

_From the path being forced upon the shade, an understanding that distance is being manipulated comes first. Then, as the shapes stretch and disappear leaving the colors to alter in a blur, a feeling of pinpricks allow the shade to realize time is being manipulated now. So through space and time the shade is summoned._

_Another explosion quickly follows, plunging the shade back into darkness. Senses confounded the shade allows the basic five to come trickling through; the smell of smoking ozone, the taste of metallic blood, the feel of massive emptiness, the sound of steady chanting, and the sight of swirling circles. _

"**Mra Ah akess ssa Ah Oh otice ella Aska, ella Aska."**

_The shade coils, peering down at the intricate sigil scrawled out with blood on stone floors. Swirling circles of magick thrum, connecting the shades cage with six other similar cages. _

_In the candle light the shade makes out the others forms; a fluttering crow, a watchful wolf, a baying sheep, a prowling lion, a skittering rat and a floating fish. All of their lesser forms have been called to this place. Was _that_ happening again already? It seemed just like yesterday to the shade._

The chanting slowly dies down as a figure shifts forward, the candle light flickering over youthful features of nothing but a child. Teal colored eyes stare unblinkingly back as dark soft strands lay perfect on cream colored skin. The sleeves of the boy's shirt are pushed up to the elbows, long deep cuts seep with trickling blood that drips on and on without ever ceasing. A pool has collected at the male's knees, magick sizzling along the conduit and keeping the six sentient beings locked tightly in their summoning sigils.

That body looks wrong, different and damned.

_They know though. They know the true soul contained inside the wrong body. They know how and why. They know that at some point, they will win._

"**It is I, who am Harry James Potter... who has summoned you here under my will."**

o

~{}~

~{o}~

-a glimpse of it-

* * *

_snicker._ if you don't understand yet, the next chapter will explain _a bit_ more. till then, stew on it lovelies.

thanks for the follows and favorites, hopefully this chapter will add a few more to the list.


	3. the taste of freedom

_**'Harry Potter' Series is property of J.K. Rowling; This is just a fiction text that receives no payment or commendations.**_

* * *

_Warnings: There's going to be a lot of Dark Arts and gore themes later along sprinkled with slash. If you can't handle it please pardon my less than caring attitude. This is rated M for a reason. I get tired of putting up warnings in each chapter, so just note that the whole story is a horrific piece of work. Love- Daemok!_

* * *

**This time, I decide.  
**

-the taste of freedom-

~{o}~

~{}~

o

Sweeping over the grasslands of swaying reeds, the wind rushes up the dirt road to attack the abandoned house. The burst of force rocks the bushes, their leaves slashing against the weathered fence, before carrying up into the hollow cracks and holes in the crumbling shack. Moaning, the tired wood sways as the thrusting force howls through the boards.

Harry lifts his head to the morning breeze. Dark strands whip about, a red glow almost notable in each hair follicle. Those teal eyes cross the stretch of muggle property left to rot away (what would become a factory in later years).

He savors the moment... freedom.

No longer is he trapped in the tomb of his family's vaults, sealed away like some plague. He is free to move among the world once again, allowed to extend his will for one single purpose alone:

To hunt down and destroy the Nemesis, It.

The being that ultimately warped his friends, destroyed his previous body, and stole his son's soul.

"Albus..." Jaw clenching, Harry stares down at both hands covered in black gloves in contemplation. He pulls a single glove off and his stomach churns. These aren't his own appendages; his were tanned from the sun, with wide palms for grasping and short fingers covered in calluses and cuts. These hands aren't his. This body isn't his. Soft palms with oval nails protruding from long fingers greets him instead, such a delicate hand... and completely black. Stained permanently with the Dark Arts. These are his son's hands.

With a hiss seething out from pink lips, Harry stabs the hand back into the glove, making sure the edges tuck underneath the white button up. He winces when fingers brush over the wound on the inside of his forearm. Blood spots the linen shirt, making him snarl silently. Harry can only cast so many wandless healing charms to knit the scabs back together -a curse he, himself, committed to summon demi gods that can help him in his quest for vengeance.

An uncomfortably tinge tugs at his heart. He is supposed to be taking care of his son's body, not tainting it any further than it already is. It had been necessary though, Harry's shoulders tense as he battles his own thoughts. Without the help of the Lesser Seven, Harry is sure he would have never escaped that prison to search out the threat that destroyed everything.

A frown pulls at those lips and teal eyes jerk downward as something dark slithers between his legs in the wild grass. Letting out an unchecked breath, Harry watches the sentient being coil, before glancing back up to stare at London in the distance. "Are you sure this place is secluded enough?"

_The shade flicks a tongue at the fledgling necromancer. "Enough..." The whisper is projected into the male's mind._

Harry keeps a weary eye on the serpent shadow as it moves forward, clearing a path for itself. He is in semi control over the Lesser Seven, giving them leeway to respond to certain situations that would ordinarily block their search for It. Leaving the Demi of Dreams back in the vaults of the year 2100, Harry sent out most of the other sentients to start the hunt, leaving behind Demi of Wisdom to stay in the deteriorating house they are going to be residing in and keeping Demi of Madness close as a bodyguard.

Truthfully Harry feels withdrawn in the presence of Madness, the symbolism between the demi god and Lord Voldemort are almost too similar. Harry has to constantly remind himself that the being is under his control, but some reassurance into the sentinel's mind would lessen his worries.

"You need more of a personality," He comments, ignoring the hissing laugh as the shade slips away.

A formation of muggle planes draws Harry's attention. He watches their effortless flight through the sky and he feels the rising yearning to get back onto a broom and fly through the clouds. Closing his eyes, Harry breathes in a shaky breath. Now he can! Free again he can do everything that he wishes to do after being sealed in that prison for 76 years! How old is he right now? 119? 120? Bloody Merlin! He should go celebrate his decade birthday over a butterbeer at least.

The sudden sound of a wailing siren cuts through his thoughts like a piercing knife. Harry blinks in bewilderment, shoulders tensing as he looks out over the grasslands. In the distance the man-made planes bank together, one splitting off from the pack to veer left. Little dots float down...

Something makes impact with the towering buildings. A mass of smoke appears with the sound of a faint 'thump'. A pregnant pause passes as realization dawns on Harry, the violent explosion finally reaches across the distance hitting him in a force of sound crackling like thunder. The earth shudders beneath his feet and Harry falls to his knees in shock. The pounding physical attack continues as Harry gapes openly at the random attack on London.

"What's happening?!" He shouts aloud, horror twisting his insides into a cold knot.

The earth buckles and Harry is thrown onto his stomach, gripping the grass as if it is a lifeline. By his face, the shade slithers into sight to examine him critically. In those slitted eyes Harry experiences a sensation of individual worthlessness. This being that is linked to him is far older then a measly decade, far more advanced and knowledgeable.

"_The War." The shade hisses._

"War? What War?!"

_With a look of satisfaction the edges of the shade's mouth lifts. "The Second World War."_

'Of course.' Harry berates himself. How could he forget? Having been caught up in the turmoil of his life, Harry has forgotten about the significance of the impact between the Muggle and Wizard worlds. 'World War II.' He mouths in fright.

People, real people are dying right now. In _front_ of him.

He is on his feet before he even knows it, crouching low on the quivering ground. Determination sets in teal orbs as he surveys the planes making another sweeping pass.

_The link between the shade and necromancer pulls tight with intention. "What are you going to do?"_

"What do you think? We have to help!"

"_You? A wizard without a wand?"_

"I have to do something! I cannot just stand here and watch as London comes crashing down!"

"_London bridge and all that?" The shade hisses in amusement._

Harry snarls and steps forward. "You have to come with me! You're job is to protect me on this journey!"

"_To protect you on your journey 'Destroying the Nemesis', not 'Saving the World'!"_

"Isn't that one and the same?!" He yells back, over the bombings and wailing siren.

_Before the shade can spit out a comment, the male apparates on the spot. With a fowl series of hisses the shade reaches out through the link established and follows the foolish wizard with a 'crack'._

_~o~_

He stumbles down the stairs.

Screaming children shove their way past him as he tries to lead them to the shelter below Wool's Orphanage. A burly bloke smashes into him, sending Tom into the stair railing, the solid wood hammering his hip. With a snarl Tom plants his hand on the back of the male's head and sends him down the stairs falling over the smaller kids. "Hurry up!" He barks, doing his best not to hex the blundering fool whilst his back turned.

The Orphanage trembles in place as another wave of bombs level downtown London.

Tom finally makes it to the landing, shoving more kids down the next flight and eying the empty foyer for the adults who left _him_ in charge and disappeared. No doubt cramming their pockets with belongings and making for safer pastures, how detestable.

Mrs. Cole's voice cuts through the air from below, the lanky Matriarch is at least making an effort to cram all 63 adolescents in the cellar underground. Tom's nose crinkles as he realizes he too must eventually go down and huddle with the stinking muggle children who would sob and soil themselves for hours on end. He almost wishes that a stray bomb will hit the Orphanage itself. No, instead they will have to struggle in the aftermath.

It's been several years since the incident with Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop in the cave. Since then, he has been going to Hogwarts the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and sorted into the prestigious House Slytherin, learning all sorts of amazing things that had been closed off to him during his childhood. Through the school he has gained notary and accomplishments mere muggles can never dream of, only to be sent back to this cesspool of disgusting darkness. Forced to live with witless muggles in a time of strife and depravity. He hates it. He hates it all.

If it is his choice, he'd exterminate them. Demolish everything muggle in a swift and precise attack. Really, he would be doing them a favor instead all this back and forth battles, like bickering children fighting over a toy. What were they really fighting over? Who cares?!

The sound of an explosion, frighteningly close, rocks the building. The sound blasting his eardrums and force almost throwing him to the floorboards. Tom steady's himself, heart hammering in his ribcage. "Get downstairs now!" He shouts at the stragglers.

Gray eyes swiveling to the open front doors, he narrows his sneer on a young girl scared stiff as she looks out into the fog of debris. With four long strides Tom snatches her coat and shakes her roughly. "If you want to live -you better get to the basement!"

Tom flings her back from the double doors and watches as she cries out, swept away down the last flight of stairs with the others. Truly he should of just let her die. This is a war after all. A few less orphan muggles will do the world good.

Looking back out the entrance, Tom becomes captivated by the sheer quick and malicious destruction. Rigid, he braces himself, the yew wand itching to be used in his right hand as his orbs rake over the scene. Down the end of the cobblestone road, buildings are plummeting to the ground, screeching metal crushing cars and people without care. Fires are breaking out, ravaging houses built packed together. A crowd is beginning to move like a macabre parade of chaos down the street, trampling one another to be the first to evacuate or find shelter. His right hand twitches again, hoping someone will try and climb the sealed gates so he can curse them.

A child's scream rises to a fervent pitch and Tom glances over the form of a toddler just outside the gates boundary. A gruesome display of humanity at its best shows adults howling by, ignoring the child with a mangled leg bleeding out on the ground. Tom's face twists into a withering mask of hatred as he slowly takes a step forwards into the madness happening outside.

He does not take another step however, the intense look slides off his face to be replaced by surprise and confusion.

There in the chaotic streets appears another male, around the same age as himself, bending down and taking hold of the shrieking toddler. A gloved hand hovers above the twisted leg and Tom watches in disbelief as the leg unravels and begins to realign itself under his very eyes. Howling in pain, the child clutches the savior tightly while a stony expression of purpose keeps the older boy controlled to the task at hand.

The toddler goes limp in those slender arms and the male lifts the bundle off the ground.

The leg is healed.

Tom lets out a breath.

Gray meets teal.

o

~{}~

~{o}~

-the taste of freedom-

* * *

5 more favorites and 11 follows with 1 review, what's up people? why the hold back?

So they finally catch sight of each other. Obviously it needs to happen sometime. Yes Harry is Dark, due to his own tainted soul and uses to do _anything_ to destroy It. Yet, he will still fundamentally be Harry James Potter with a bipolar morale 'savior' disorder. Hopefully I've captured Tom is the 'right light' so to speak. Want to know more about the sentient beings? Too bad, the plot is thick with information so you'll have to wait for each chapter like a kid hyped up for Christmas presents.

Review:

Reader-anonymous-writer: thanks for the support! that and the review, it means a lot. (even if the words left me pondering the cryptic message for hours until I realize that there is nothing else to it, haha!)


	4. watch your back

_**'Harry Potter' Series is property of J.K. Rowling; This is just a fiction text that receives no payment or commendations.**_

* * *

_Author's note: On Mondays and Wednesdays expect no chapter posts, I have college classes on those days. Fortunately I have a clear plot lined up for this story so on the other days I'll make sure to update. (other stories are under reconstruction, because I lost their info during my move across country.)_

_P.S: If you're wondering about the Nemesis or Tom Riddle's personality- check reviews section where other readers have asked me. I don't give everything away, but I enlighten it somewhat._

* * *

**This time, I decide.**

-watch your back-

~{o}~

~{}~

o

"Open the doors!" Harry shouts, snapping the other male out of his stupor. He holds his breath as Tom Riddle descends the steps of the orphanage. Already there is a building tension between the two of them. A resonance that strikes a chord and thrums across the short distance.

"Who are you?" Tom demands, eyes traveling the wizard's form. For surly that is what this boy is, another wizard. Small, petite, but powerful enough to cast wandless healing charms under stress. There is more than that though, familiarity sparks in the back of his mind. Something tainted and twisted from the time of his childhood unwraps itself from the darkness within, an interest turns its attention on the new wizard. Is this what recognizing a kindred spirit would feel like?

With a curl of his lip, Harry's eyes blaze with anger. "Hurry!"

Disgusted, Tom flicks his wand and the chains snake off the gates. He opens his mouth to order the boy inside, when the toddler is suddenly shoved into his own arms. "What?!"

Handing off the boy is paramount, the situation of giving an innocent child to one of the world's most feared Dark Lords does not go lost on Harry. There is little time to though. He will have to trust that Riddle hasn't become a completely maniac yet. When his hands drag across the boy's arms, Harry staggers backwards in surprise. Maybe it is his imagination, but something pulsed to life between them.

"Boy!" A yell from behind, Mrs. Cole is standing at the entrance. "Close those gates and get inside immediately!"

He scowls over his shoulder at the woman and whips back around as the other male turns to the throng of bodies. "Where are you going?!"

"To put out those fires!" As if he'd stick around to deal with Tom Riddle of all people as London comes crashing down on their heads. He snorts to himself and pushes into the crowd, forgetting about their brief touch as nothing more than Dark Arts practitioners recognizing one another...

"**Come back!"**

Harry almost trips over his own feet as the command tries to take hold, even from this far away. That sleazy bastard just tried to force him to submit! 'Merlin, Tom is far too strong for his age!' **"Fuck off!"**

Tom's head rocks back as if the other male slapped him across the face; and really, that's what it felt like when that enormous magickal core turned against him. Stunned, Tom glares at the receding back that disappears into the sea of muggles. Several people look to the open gates and make a dash towards him. With a snarl of hisses he curses at them in parseltongue, barely remembering that the Ministry is keeping tabs on the spells conducted by under-aged wizards. His wand hand itches again. The selfish muggles are brought to their knees, convulsing on the spot. How dare they. Gray orbs narrow in annoyance as he searches out for the boy who vanished several seconds ago.

With a goal clear in his mind, Tom takes the steps two at a time and hands off the unconscious child to Mrs. Cole. It is most likely the child is an orphan now anyways. The woman can figure out what to do with it. Fear clouds her eyes, from whether it being the destruction of the war raging around them, or seeing him invisibly attacking ordinary people, he does not know (nor care either).

Doing something incredibly foreign to his own well-being, Tom darts down the stairs and out onto the streets, spelling the iron doors closed once again. There is another wizard out there. One who defied and ordered him into a passive fool all in their first abrupt meeting. Such rudeness deserves to be rectified.

~o~

It isn't working. The bulk of his power is dimming already, between keeping his own wounds closed and helping others, the light side of his core is draining. Not a lot of his power is leaving no, but it simpers from him just fast enough to make something such as distance and quickness barely out of his reach. That is one of the problems with wandless magick. Of course, having the more dominate dark side trying to take over is also hard to control. Being a Grey Wizard isn't as easy as one would think.

Harry is trying to put out the fires, but they spread so quickly that it is hard to keep up with. He really wishes he could just jump on a broom and take flight after the source of the attacks. Where exactly would he find a magick broom in muggle London?

Frustration rises. A building crumbles away before him, flames spitting up from the inside as the roof collapses on itself. He lifts both hands and presses his will into the burning element. The fire recedes, smoke billowing upwards in angry clouds. He huffs in a breath, head feeling empty and pin-pricks traveling across his limbs.

Inhaling the dense air his lungs heave and he begins coughing uncontrollably. Eyes watering, he tries to clear his throat, the taste of dirt and a metallic clang on his tongue. Pulling a hand away he stares at the liquid smeared across the glove. He swallows thickly. On the ground something moves into his line of sight. Almost letting out a shout of surprise, Harry glares down at Madness slithering by. "Where have you been?" His voice strains.

_The shade gives the wizard an unrecognizable look and flicks a tongue, "Tracking you."_

With a frown he narrows teal eyes and coughs into his fist. "It took you awhile."

"_You haven't been standing still." Came the shade's immediate retort._

"Humph." Harry looks up as a tree bursts into flames, its branches close to catching a small business store on fire. "Do something useful."

"_I am. Watching your back."_

Grunting with little patience, Harry lifts his hands again to administer his will. Faintly, Harry wishes he could call forth a massive wind to suck out the fire, but there is barely enough oxygen to even breathe properly, that and the sweating possibility that he'd accidentally create a cyclone of fire instead.

"You!"

Ignoring the yell, Harry remains focused as the strain trying to buckle the burning element hardens against him. A hand clamps down on his arm and wretches him around. Disbelief crosses his face which suddenly explodes into rage. "Didn't I tell you to fuck off?!"

Tom Riddle draws himself up to his full height and sneers down his nose. "I have questions you need to answer."

"Right now?!" He waves frantically at the destruction around them. "Don't you think this isn't the right time?!"

"Don't be an idiot. Of course it isn't." Tom effortlessly flicks his wand at the tree and it extinguishes itself. "But until I'm satisfied, I'm keeping you close by my side."

Harry chokes which turns into another fit of coughing, surprisingly the hold on his arm is stronger, keeping him upright as he hacks. 'Riddle? Keeping _me _close to _his_ side?!' He rips himself free and shoves the taller male. "Back off! You're insane!"

"What is _insane _is your lack of self-preservation! Clearly we do not categorize sanity in the same definition!"

He wants to hit that smug face so badly. Instead, Harry turns his back on the male and jogs forward into the dense smoke rolling down the streets. Jumping over fallen debris and dodging people screaming by, Harry hisses in irritation. He can hear Tom close behind. He can practically _feel _him, and not in the physical sense. That is a startling revelation Harry really wishes he can clear from his thoughts. Thoughts that are beginning to become distracted at the wrong time.

A body came slamming into him from the opposite direction. Harry tumbles to the ground, hitting his head on scattered bricks. Fierce pain stabs into his brain sending signals through his withering nerves.

The person, whoever they are, turns their fury onto him.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Two beefy hands seize his stained white shirt. A stout man with wild eyes pins him to the ground.

Blinking in confusion, Harry glances at the carrying bag the man had dropped, dozens of jewels and expensive items were spilling out. 'Ah, an opportunist.' Lucky for Harry to run into a psychotic bastard trying to make a heist in the chaos. 'I've been running into a lot of psycho's today.'

"Where the fuck did you come from?"

He tries to get out a curse, but his lunges convulse and he starts coughing again. A hand closes around his throat, an alarm goes off in the back of his mind. Harry lets his arms and legs flail into punches and kicks to get away-

"Stupify!"

The thief's weight knocked the air out of him. Shoving the unconscious man off, Harry is unceremoniously lifted by the collar, ripping the fabric further. "Get off!" It comes out more weak then he likes it to.

Tom chuckles at the others dismay. Glancing down at the slumped muggle he toes the ugly brute before grinning at the wizard. "Those were some interesting questions I'm just waiting to be enlightened upon."

With a mixed view on whether or not to thank the future Dark Lord, Harry shakes his head and glances

towards the heavens. So far there hadn't been anymore bombs, but the telltale signs of buzzing planes can be heard under the droning wail of the warning siren. He needs to find a way to knock them out of the sky, unfortunately little can be done with all the fire in the way...

Peripheral vision heightened, Tom keeps a close eye on the shifting smoke around them as he watches the wheels spin in the other boy's head. Hand massaging the handle of his wand Tom scrutinizes the pale face streaked with ash and blood. Pretty. Movement to the right makes him react instantly, not chancing another encounter such as before, he hits them with a stunning hex.

"Stop that! These people have to get out of here!"

"What are you? Some sort of savior or something?!"

He twitches, "Or something. Come on." Harry grabs a hold of the flummoxed male and drags him along.

"Care to fill me in?"

"I need a spot where the sky is clear."

Yanking his arm away Tom halts in place. "Why didn't you say so?!" A gesture with his wand above their heads and a tunnel breaks free, opening a vortex of the blue beyond. A perfect gap presenting two bombers sweeping around. "Now- What in Merlin's name?!"

The dark slippery substance of magick boils to life. A shuddering euphoria awakens as Harry connects with the Abyss hidden away inside of him. Drawing on knowledge he came across while his long stay in the Potter vaults, Harry presses his will out into the physical world. Reaching to the fire all around, twisting and distorting. Teal eyes begin to glow and slowly he lifts his arms, fingers raking the air with gloved fingers.

His heart picks a faster beat. An moment of disbelief crosses his face. Tom school's his expression, clamping down hard on the 'awe' that the boy inspired in him. 'He's delving into the Dark Arts! Right here in plain sight!' A increase in temperature makes gray orbs dart to the smoky walls around them. Beyond the smog, orange glows become brighter to such a blinding point Tom has to look away.

Summoning all the darkness that bubbles searching for an outlet, Harry unleashes it onto the fires with the soul intent on knocking the planes out of the air. For a brief second, he almost becomes engulfed and eaten by his own power, then because he is stubborn at heart the fires react to his will.

Hearing the call of Old Magick, the elements jitter to life. A conduit is created, a passage into the sky, hungry and greedy the flames burst upwards, leaving the ground behind in their mad search for oxygen and their target. With wicked glee they reach up and snatch two planes effortlessly, burning through the material at a startling rate. There are more fires to please though, further back another wave of flames shoot up, reacting to the aftermath of dark magick to destroy one plane and damage the fourth. Sizzling out the element sigh out of existence in contempt.

Harry slumps to his knees. His body feels like ice and needles, hands numb. The coughing returns and he tries to catch his breath. An arm though, snakes around his torso and lifts him to his feet quickly. Floundering in shock he hacks and twists, but Tom's grip on him is strong as the taller male begins dragging him. "Sto-" But that's when teal eyes catch sight of the hurling mass of metal and fire screaming down towards them. Without a hesitation Harry aparates them both.

~o~

_Slipping past decimated buildings the shade takes scent of the area. The shade is searching for It. The Nemesis should be here. Where there is madness there is the shade, where there is chaos..._

_The link between the shade and the fledgling necromancer spikes. Lifting a head, the shade takes stock of the area one last time. It is not here. Maybe asleep, maybe dormant, but soon. So very soon._

_Elsewhere the shade is needed. The duty to the wizard may demand the shade for immediate protection, but there are loopholes around that. One being, Harry Potter is safe under the watchful penetrating gaze of Tom Riddle, an empty container that used to house It. For now the wizard is safe and that is enough on that front, there are other battle fronts that demand the shade's attention._

~o~

Harry lands on his stomach and groans in pain. Lifting his head he glances around the tall grasslands. He had made it. Maybe not close to the shack, but he has company. Someone that he isn't too sure he wants knowing where exactly he lives. Said male is sitting up and brushing himself off. 'Che, as if that will help.' Pushing himself off the ground he takes stock at their less than perfect states of dishevel. Covered in dirt, grime, and blood they sure look the deviant pair.

Off in the distance the droning wail dies away. The last enemy bomber is making a hasty retreat with five of the British Air-force following hot on its tail.

Hopefully soon, people are going to be picking their way out of the disaster to hunt down family and the last of their belonging, before working on repairing London to its former glory. Harry levels his own scrutinizing glare on Riddle. "You saved me... why?"

Startled, Tom looks up from wiping off a particular nasty smudge on his pant leg. "To get you to answer my questions."

"Of course." Disappointment tinges in his guts, Harry feels spiteful towards the other. "You couldn't just, I don't know, done it out of the kindness of your heart?"

Tom scoffs. "That's utter nonsense. I wouldn't be a Slytherin if I did everything for free, would I?"

"I don't know," Trying to not give away too much information, Harry shrugs his shoulder. "What's a Slytherin?"

'That's right, he's not a Hogwarts student. I would have known him.' Tom frowns, yet on further inspection he realizes that the person across from him isn't entirely telling the truth either. Not attending Hogwarts does not enlighten him to anything more than the boy is more suspicious than before. 'If he does not attend Hogwarts than what school does he go to?' More questions to figure out. "If you don't know, you don't need to know."

'Slimy ponce.' With a tinge of annoyance, his mouth twitch in response to Riddle's blatant snide remark. 'It is like fighting Draco Malfoy all over again, except Riddle can actually back up his arrogant nature.' Brushing himself off, Harry climbs to his feet and extends his hand in a show of good will. "Well, thank you."

An eyebrow lifts in confusion.

"For saving me that is."

Tom chuckles as he stands on his own. "Don't make such a big deal out of it, or I'll be forced to let you die next time."

"You're fucking charming aren't you?"

"And you're an imbecile who cannot express himself without resorting to tasteless curse words!" Already this nameless boy is getting under his skin. What is it about the male that ticks him off and yet wants to remain in his presence?

Harry snorts, "Look whose talking. I distinctly remember hearing you hex several muggles."

"They were in the way!" Tom huffs feeling affronted. Here, another Dark Wizard is telling _him_ how to do things! Who ever heard of a Dark Wizard saving other people?! His mind wheels around on itself trying to figure out the teal-eyed male.

"Aren't we all in your way Tom?" Harry spits back in unchecked fury.

A silent pause hangs in the air between their tense forms as they glower at each other.

"How do you know my name?"

'Ah -shit!'

o

~{}~

~{o}~

-watch your back-

* * *

Hell yeah! Way more reviews this time. (fist pump) Gets me excited to answer all these questions and type up the next chapter. This one was a bit longer because I just couldn't stop!

Reviews:

Guest: No worries friend chapter three is up and now so is chapter four. I try not to give away the whole plot in the beginning so you might be 'confused' for awhile longer. Just go with it is my advice ha-ha!

CynicalOrange: I can answer a few of your questions, first to clarify; Dumbledore is not the Nemesis. Tom Riddle is not being influenced by It at the moment, to him it was just something that happened in his childhood, being at Hogwarts has given him an almost contradictory outlook of his own. Where Harry is torn between being a savior and using dark magick, Tom is torn between being dark and trying to remain good in the eyes of the public. You have to remember that Tom Riddle isn't exactly Voldemort yet, he's still got that 'dying light' inside. (Hence; carelessly saving children whilst torturing adults) The part about Harry in his son Albus' body will come later. I like saving info like that.

Lendrir: I'm not very good at flashbacks, but I will put in dialogue between Harry and the demi gods, giving more information about the back story. If you liked this update, the next chapter will be up Thursday friend.

raven1493: Amazing? Wonderful? Why thank you! I try hard to perfect my craft, but sometimes things can slip by. Thursday is my next posting day, so you can expect a longer chapter that day as well. Peace!

Reader-anonymous-writer: The Nemesis or It, is the antagonist to my story. It is a being whose name is not uttered and travels between this world and beyond to enact its destructive nature. Its true intentions and goals are unknown as it comes and goes too quickly to be confronted. This shapeless being inspires fear in even the Lesser Seven. I can't give anymore then that away I'm afraid. Thanks for the support.

jumping-jo: Whoaaaaaa! Calm down there hyper! I'm glad someone noticed, it's so hard to sprinkle details in a story when -as the writer- you just want to throw out all the secrets. But I'm good at being wicked, so I think I can keep every hooked enough to reach the end. Until next time.


End file.
